


so don't turn away now

by bookhobbit



Series: The Magic Circle [7]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Aroflux Character, Asexual Character, Demiromantic Character, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookhobbit/pseuds/bookhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Childermass and Mr Norrell find their way back to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so don't turn away now

**Author's Note:**

> Set quite directly after their chapter of 'dream a little dream of me'. To enhance your reading experience I offer this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RStq-hzg5Kg
> 
> Also I'm so sorry for the continuing fic spam. Like I said, after this I think I've got something Discworld I'll finish, so brief fandom switch.

February 1819

 

Childermass was quite certain there was something wrong. 

Mr Norrell had dreamed them together three times in the last two weeks. The first time was very awkward indeed. Mr Norrell was sitting in his chair, reading a book, when Childermass appeared in the library.

"Good evening," he said tentatively.

"Good evening," said Childermass, and sat down across from him. They stared at their feet for some time - Childermass could not remember the last time he had felt at such a loss for words. But it seemed very fragile; Mr Norrell was gazing resolutely at his book as if he was afraid of looking the wrong place. Childermass thought that the smallest thing might bring on an argument.

He thought of the easy familiarity which they had once had around each other, and felt a twist.

Mr Norrell finally spoke. "Tell me of what you have been doing," he said, fidgeting with this coatsleeve. "At your school."

Childermass recognized this for the peace offering it was. "Well, apart from anything else, trying to translate the King's Letters."

"The King's Letters? You found the book?" Mr Norrell leaned forward in his chair.

"In a manner of speaking." Childermass began the tale of Vinculus, and as he and Mr Norrell talked, the tension began to ease. Something of the balance between them began to reassert itself.

He did not touch Mr Norrell then, although he wanted to. Once he reached out, but Mr Norrell's eyes tracked his hand nervously, and so he left it. Perhaps he needed time. Childermass could not blame him.

The next time, Childermass was having one of the days where his capacity for romantic feeling seemed to ebb. Mr Norrell had been accustomed to dealing with this; Childermass had been very grateful for his understanding in this matter, at least. And right now it did not seem to matter. They avoided each other's touch and continued to talk of their goings-on. It was a relief, for Childermass had been afraid Mr Norrell would be offended, given the changed status of their relationship. So again, he thought nothing of it.

The third time, though... That was when he knew something was wrong.

The third time Mr Norrell was discussing a new kingdom of Faerie they had found, and the King of it, who had seen Martin Pale. His face was - Childermass did not like to say that it was bright, because Mr Norrell was always dry in his manner. But there was a passion in him that reminded Childermass of Hurtfew's Mr Norrell. His Mr Norrell.

Childermass reached out to touch his arm.

He flinched away. Childermass recoiled as though he had been slapped.

"Don't," Mr Norrell said, his voice brittle. There was something in his face, something on the verge of shattering, and it twisted into Childermass. He could feel the wall growing up between them the way it had in London, and it was jagged in his head, full of razor blade silences and the shards of things unsaid and tiny new cuts inside of him.

Well, he was not going to let it happen. Not again. Last time he had said nothing. Last time he had let it go, let it all spin out of his hands. But not now. That brittleness in Mr Norrell's voice, that shattered look on his face, those did not belong to a day of mere tactile sensitivity, which Mr Norrell sometimes had. There was something else there. And Childermass thought he deserved an explanation. He was very tired of things unsaid.

"Why?" he said, leaning back.

"What?"

"Why did you call me here if you do not care for me any more?" His hands were curled tightly into fists; he could feel the nails biting into the palms. He took a deep breath, and then another, fighting something that was stuck in his throat - tears or an angry scream, he did not know. It seemed to have arisen suddenly, as if the frustrating of the past few weeks had all condensed themselves into a moment. 

Mr Norrell shrank in on himself. "I do," he said, barely audible. "But if you touched me, Childermass, I could not bear - "

"Has your opinion of me changed so much?"

"No! No." Mr Norrell rubbed his eyes. "I am - you have another lover now."

"And so do you."

"What I feel for Jo- for Mr Strange is not irreconcilable with what I feel for you. Indeed, that is the problem."

"Why is it a problem?"

Mr Norrell took a ragged breath; Childermass could hear the heaving of it. "Because if you touched me I would not be able to stop myself from - from _feeling_  again." He reached up to scrub angrily at his eyes.

"And would that be such a bad thing?" said Childermass softly. He could hear the rawness in his own voice, but he could not seem to soften it.

"Yes! Why would I want to? When the end result can only be inconvenience for you and pain for me?"

Childermass made a disbelieving noise. How exactly like Mr Norrell. "Did you bother to ask if I might still care for  _you_?"

Mr Norrell swallowed. "You - do you?"

"Aye," whispered Childermass. "In spite of everything."

"But your Mr Segundus - "

"Has given me leave to pursue what course I feel led to. And Mr Strange?"

"Is married," said Mr Norrell, "And even now visits his wife. I do not think he could object."

"No," said Childermass. "I do not think he could."

There was a very long silence. Mr Norrell said, "You really still - ?"

"Yes," said Childermass, "I always have. And you..."

"You were the first person I ever...felt this way for. I do not know if that will ever leave me."

Childermass met Mr Norrell's eyes, and Mr Norrell let him. For a moment they gazed at each other and then Mr Norrell looked away. He whispered, so low Childermass almost did not hear it, "I missed you."

Childermass could feel pressure building up behind his throat again, a tide of words he very much wanted to keep in - words that revealed too much. How had Mr Norrell always done this to him? Reached in, unaware somehow, and opened some sort of gate? He took a deep breath and said, steadily, "Well, then tha might show me."

Mr Norrell met his eyes again, and stood up slowly. He reached his hand down to Childermass. This was more of a gesture than serious help in rising, given their relative heights. All the same, Childermass took it, just to feel it in his again for the first time in so long.

Still looking holding his hand, Mr Norrell stood on his tip-toes, leaned forward, and kissed him.

It was gentle as summer rain, shy with the weight of months and months apart between them, as if Mr Norrell was still not certain of his welcome. Childermass made a noise in a voice he did not quite recognize as his own and pulled him nearer, hands on his waist. And suddenly there was a note of desperation, as if those months had fallen away and left a gap that needed to be filled. Mr Norrell wrapped his arms around Childermass, and Childermass held him close. They broke apart, foreheads resting against each other, breathing hard.

"I missed you, John," said Mr Norrell again, as though it was a revelation.

Childermass felt warm to his toes with the relief of it, of hearing that, of knowing they were something close to all right again - or at least, perhaps, that they could be, with time. He sighed. "Every time I think I've moved past thee, tha comes back."

Mr Norrell looked stricken. Childermass kissed him again, soft and slow. "And I missed thee too," he said. "More than I wanted to, sometimes."

"I was so afraid. I thought you would not care for me any more. As soon as you said you had someone else."

Childermass kissed his nose. In truth he had feared the same thing - for far longer. He had feared it since Strange had walked into their lives. But right now he did not want to think of such things. He had thought of them too much, of late, and perhaps Mr Norrell had too. “It is past,” he said.

Mr Norrell took his hand again. "It is," he said. "And I am very glad of it."

Childermass sighed and rested his head in the crook of Mr Norrell's shoulder. Mr Norrell petted his hair, the sensation a comforting familiarity.

Perhaps, just perhaps, they had made it through after all.


End file.
